November 22, 2000
Thanksgiving Day stuffed with memories
By GARRET LEIVA
Herald editor
Indubitably, the fourth Thursday in November is a time to give thanks - for the Pepto Bismol.
Thanksgiving is a celebration of not only family and friends but the four basic food groups: turkey, trimmings, dessert, and antacids. Food, fellowship and Lions football all add up to a day of thankful reflection and acid reflux.
For many, Thanksgiving is the lone date on the calendar when conspicuous consumption is decreed a legal holiday. Myself, heading home for the holiday means a tale of one town and two dinners. In the end, Thanksgiving stuffing is not just for the bird.
When you're talking Thanksgiving with the Scofield clan, you're talking turkey: 24 pounds of it. My side of the family remains #6 dye in the Jell-O with banana slices Thanksgiving traditionalists. Prime rib, ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, rolls and Aunt Sherill's pumpkin pie all crowd the table top. My uncles still nearly arm wrestle over the turkey gizzard.
Six hours later and five miles south on M-65, Thanksgiving means passing the Baba Ghanouj. Dinning with my wife's family on Thanksgiving means India-inspired fare, English shepherd's pie, or perhaps Tofu turkey. In 1674 it was the Pilgrims and the Indians sitting down to break bread, with the Charette clan it is the herbivores and the carnivores.
Actually, having a vegetarian Thanksgiving prevents that whole "thigh vs. drumstick" conundrum. Besides, I can always sneak a piece of turkey jerky with my father-in-law on the side porch.
Soon after the final gravy-soaked dish is cleared from the table, thus begins the traditional post Thanksgiving dinner aftermath.
First, the belt is let out a few notches or, if you had seconds on sweet potato pie, discarded altogether. Second, you fall into a couch cushion, a recliner chair or use a nearby first cousin as a pillow. Third, you turn on the Lions vs. NFL chump football game. All these are cursory steps leading up to the most important post-dinner tradition - the nap.
Nothing brings together generations of men (and women) like a Thanksgiving food coma. Charlie Batch could throw 13 interceptions, Desmond Howard could run a kickoff return the wrong way, Wayne Fontes could even head coach again, and no one in my family would bat an eye. By half-time, the house sounds like a Lions' playoff crowd; the silence interrupted by snoring instead of booing.
Toward the end of the afternoon, Thanksgiving comes full circle around the relish tray. Five hours earlier you were popping back fistfuls of black olives, now you can barely wedge a celery stick between your lips. Before you can waddle out the front door, however, someone mentions your name and the "L" word - leftovers.
While the Pilgrims filled their faces with seethed lobster and boiled turkey at that inaugural Thanksgiving, they did take their elbows off the table long enough to give thanks. In that tradition, I would be remiss if I didn't express my thankfulness for the following:
- My father's sense of humor and my mother's sensibility
- Friends who still play touch football the day after Christmas and stay in touch year-round
- A wife who understands the thin line between idiosyncratic and idiotic
- A dog who can provide insightful guest commentary and is housebroken
- That I can still touch my toes
- Not spending the day after Thanksgiving anywhere near a shopping mall
Three hundred and twenty-six years ago, a day was appointed for giving thanks for divine goodness. Today, the fourth Thursday in November remains a time of thanksgiving for family, friends, and that little pink bottle waiting inside the medicine cabinet.
Grand Traverse Herald editor Garret Leiva can be reached at 933-1416 or e-mail gleiva@gtherald.com.